


We Tread Lightly

by HowlingHooves



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Affection, Alcohol, Anger, Between missions, Character Death, Childhood Memories, Culture Differences, Exhaustion, F/M, Grumpy Commander, Grumpy Saren, Mentions of Sexual Content, Mild Crude Humor, Original Asari Characters, Shepard's father - Freeform, Sick Shep, Sleeping Lover, Victor Shepard, Wearing down, abandoned mining town, bad driving jokes, before Paragon, chaotic dressing up, crashing the Kodiak, favorite fruit, fluffy goodness, medical alterations, mention of Shepard's brother, mentions of thieves, middle of nowhere, personal heating turian, sleeping troubles, slight angst, unwilling participants, work that rental!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowlingHooves/pseuds/HowlingHooves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shots, and/or short tales of my AU FemShep, Raquel Addison Shepard. Paragade, heavily leaning toward the Paragon role.</p>
<p>Tags will be added as more chapters posted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Raquel became a Spectre and trained under Garrus, partnered with him for some time after; Reapers do not exist, Saren put her name in under the guise of Nihlus doing so. More will be explained as I post one-shots/blurbs. c:
> 
> Basis of this AU is Tevos is our antagonist, with Saren having taken a roll of public bad guy number one as a scapegoat while looking into Cerberus; he found evidence linking with Tevos, but it was destroyed before he could grab hold. Saren was supposedly Quel's mortal enemy, her mind having been twisted to see him as a horrible monster by the Council (cough-Tevos-cough) until he saved her life and, after being confronted by Garrus, ended up spilling the beans when pressed by both he and Nihlus to tell her. Blah blah blah, I'll shut up now.
> 
> The title is based after the orchestral piece by Dustin O'Halloran; I adore We Move Lightly, very much. Fits this first entry very well.
> 
> Enjoy!

Shepard had her head in one hand, palm and fingers cupped around her chin as her elbow rested heavily against her desk. Data pads were skewed all across the surface, some lit up and others not, one lit up under her free hand where it lay. Her eyes were closed to the world around her, not taking in the fish that swam with her favorite eel, nor her hamster, Hamilton, as the small creature stuffed food pellets into his cheeks. Her mouth was parted just slightly, allowing for breath to escape but no other sound as she slept, looking peaceful despite the calamity that was on display across her workspace.

She didn't stir when the door to her quarters quietly opened and closed, nor when her name was whispered and followed by a gentle, warm and loving chuckle. Her fingers twitched slightly when the datapad was pulled reverently from under them, a deep breath taken before it left in a tired sigh from her lips. The other data pads were all carefully turned off and stacked neatly away, blue eyes softly studying her sleeping form before Garrus trailed his talons over her exposed cheek softly.

When she still didn't stir his mandibles flared in a smile before he shifted her in her seat and picked the woman up easily. In the quiet of the room, his boots tapped along the floor lightly, down the stairs as he took them without pause, and when he gently laid Shepard on the bed he stood up again to just gaze over her, to drink her in as she was; peaceful and beautiful.

Her maroon hair was slightly eschewed from its ponytail, a few wisps playing over her face and neck; pale skin wasn't as tight as when she was awake, all traces of frustration and stress seemingly gone as she slept on. But his smile became a frown as he took in the gaunt shadows she held in her cheeks, the lines and slightly darker bags under her eyes, how the paleness, so beautiful moments before, looked almost sickly to him as he stood over her. When her brow knit together and her expression changed to one other than neutrality, he was quick to lean down and press his mouth plates to the side of her head, one hand gently rubbing along her bare arm.

“I'm here, Shepard.” He whispered to her, feeling her body unwind from the momentary distress and a soft sigh escape her. Smiling as he stripped off her boots and his own, setting them near the foot of the bed, Garrus soon wrapped himself around her on the free side, foregoing any blankets she may have needed without him warming her.

“I'll always be here.” He promised quietly, seeing a smile break across her sleeping face as she curled up and into him unconsciously. He hummed softly to her, his chest vibrating through the bed soothingly.

“Garss..” She mumbled, eyes opening slightly, still hazy with sleep and exhaustion, before they closed again just as lazily. Trailing fingers through her looser hair, Garrus simply held her for a time before succumbing to his dreams alongside her, mandibles slack as he inhaled the scent that was simply Shepard.

With nothing but the blue glow of the fish tank, the lovers remained blissfully unaware of the crew and the goings on outside of Shepard’s cabin, even if only for a little while.


	2. Line of Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Downtime to read through information, look for leads to chase, and have some not so serious conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howl, you devil; posting up a whole new thing and then adding this to boot. Well, we all need some humor in our lives.
> 
> So this is just a little blip in the middle of everything; the group hasn't had any missions that gave wanted results or information, leaving Shepard a little bit grumpy and just wanting to get something done. But of course Nihlus has just the right thing to offer as a distraction. And of course nobody seems to realize that Saren is in the room until after the fact.. Poor, grumpy Turian.
> 
> I'd love to hear from you guys! I've got a bunch of little onesies about Quel too, that I should be posting, but I never feel like they're good enough. The troubles of writing, lol. I might add another tonight as well, possibly tomorrow if I feel too tired. c; I know there hasn't been much seen on my end about Quel, but if you want to see something with her specifically I'm game to write something up. Because my muse has been just a little dry the past few days, and it needs a drink...

Pinning anything on Tevos proved to be a hardship that not a single one had an easy time with. As the weeks passed, they could gather little on how exactly she had been pulling strings. Surprising? Of course not, considering her position and power. _Irritating_? Beyond any describable term or use of the word.

Poring over reports one after another, Shepard gave vent to a frustrated scream as she rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Remind me later to never take a desk job.” She growled aloud, not speaking to anyone in particular from where she sat in port observation, the room quiet and the lights dimmed low.

“You know, Bau was always talking about this one human thief, Kasuzi or Kasuli… I don't remember, never paid much attention to that story.”

“Your point, Nihlus? I hope you have one, I'm tired and bored.”

He chuckled as he plopped down next to her on the couch, almost on top of her as his arms moved to rest along the back lazily. “My point, Shepard, is that thief has always been the one that got away. Getting away from a Spectre isn't easy, and getting away from Bau is nearly as hard as getting away from Saren when he's got you on his radar. Bau and Saren are among the best in our circle, so maybe I can pull a few strings, find some way to contact her.”

“You don't even know her name, and you want us to ask a thief for help?”

His smile was more tooth than anything, and Shepard glowered at him. “You already did. Does Saren know?” She rolled her eyes when he shrugged his shoulders, looking so smug that Shepard couldn't help but laugh.

“You should be getting a message shortly, from a Kasumi Goto. Keep in mind my occupation choice, too, Shep. I'm not nearly as stupid as I am attractive.” He commented, earning a kick to his side that nearly sent him toppling.

“So then, now that you've gotten two Turian's into bed, when do I get my turn?” He suddenly asked after she had gone back to reading over a datapad.

She looked over at him and blinked owlishly, mouth hanging open slightly as she thought over his words again. “As soon as I'm done with her.” A voice announced from behind after the door hissed open softly.

“Hey, hold on a minute! What am I, some mod you guys trade off when you get a new one?” She asked indignantly, face growing red.

“Of course not, Shepard. More like a rifle. Nihlus, I doubt you'd be able to _really_ handle her anyway. Way more trouble than you think, even as small as she is.”

“And now I'm _small_? What the hell, Garrus! I'm above average for my age group.” She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing. Nihlus laughed aloud as she scowled at them both.

“Hey, I like the kickback. It might be good to get some practice in, since I'm not up to your standard of handling a rifle. But then again, my Eviscerator and I tend to get the job done, too, and I doubt even she has that much kick.” He shot back, making Shepard snarl in frustration and rage before she stood up and stomped out of the room.

“Sometimes I wonder how either of you remain friends with her, let alone why she chose someone such as yourself, Vakarian. Take your crude discussion elsewhere, some of us require at least a modicum of sleep.” Saren announced from the other side of the room, turning over in the bunk that was half hidden from view.

Both Nihlus and Garrus laughed again, Saren grumbling under his breath as the two others soon left the room.


	3. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anderson's death. Saren speaks to a ghost, making promises he knows he can't keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is before Shepard and Saren become allies; my timeline as it stands sets it about seven or eight weeks before an incident occurs that leaves Saren with little choice but to bring Shepard into the loop. Said incident will be posted a while onward, in the actual story. c;
> 
> Inspiration for this came after listening to a lovely, and old song I had forgotten I completely adore-
> 
> Zombie, The Cranberries

Anderson had asked to meet with her, had said it was urgent and given her coordinates. It struck her as odd for only a moment before she had rushed to the Presidium, had dashed up the stairs to find Anderson waiting for her near the Council’s atrium. He was turned away from her, and she saw the hand motion he made, under the guise of raising a hand to the back of his neck; Shepard sank into the darkened corners of the room, the lights dimmed with the day cycle having ended some hours before.

“Give me what I need, Anderson!” Shepard froze for only a second before storming forward, with her pistol in a tight fist, voice rising. She was stopped midstep as a stasis surrounded her, lifting her off her feet to hold her above the floor.

“And you've made your second mistake, Anderson.” Saren said lowly, Shepard seeing the hand not held out and suspending her clench.

“She has the information, Saren. You need it, she's the one to ask.” Anderson told the Turian, looking back to Shepard worriedly. Shepard closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to focus her own biotics to break free.

But when she opened them again she watched, horrified, as Saren brought up his own gun and fired. Anderson was knocked back before he fell to his knees, toppling to the side lifelessly. Time slowed for Shepard, and as her biotics lashed out violently she screamed in denial of what she witnessed, falling to the ground as she broke free of Saren’s grasp.

“Anderson!” She shouted miserably, scrambling on the sleek floor for only a moment before launching herself at the Turian, her pistol long forgotten behind her. Despite her lack of expertise in CQC, she used everything Garrus and her N training had taught her, finally finding an opening and tackling Saren to the ground to straddle him. Shepard wasted no time in raising her fist and slamming it down against his right cheek, his barrier flickering before he reversed their position, talons tearing through her civvies and digging deeply into her left side.

As she fought against him, his free talons holding one hand while the other was pinned between her body and his thigh, he leaned close to her, breathing deeply before growling. “You have no idea what _mess_ she has dragged you into, Commander.”

She tried to slam her head against his, failing when he moved to the side; but it gave her the room to pull away from him, kicking off the floor. His talons, still embedded into her side, dragged further down and around her hip when she turned onto her front, reaching for the pistol he had dropped. When she turned back to aim at him, Shepard looked around wildly for the now missing Turian.

As her anger faded in the wake of his disappearance, she pressed her hands to her side and choked on a sob when she pushed herself over to Anderson’s body. Clutching at his clothes, Shepard pressed her forehead against his shoulder and wept freely, uncaring for the blood that seeped through her fingers to stain the floor, to mix with his own.

In the shadows she had used for less than a minute herself, Saren watched and listened, his talons clenching against the metal pier he had hidden himself behind. With a final growl, he activated his cloak and stalked away, muttering promises of violence beneath the broken and mournful howling of Commander Shepard. Saren paused once more when her words reached him.

“What do I have, Anderson? What do I have? Tell me what I need to do..” he closed his eyes tightly at how broken she sounded, how lost. He could feel the heavy, guilty gaze of a friend long dead on him, betrayed by his actions even had they been done for her own benefit, even if she felt alone now.

“She will not be dragged into this, Victor. Not if I can avoid it.” He whispered to a ghost, refusing to let his feelings change the decision he had allowed to haunt him. Making himself turn away, Saren disappeared before C-Sec could arrive, made sure to cover all trace of his movement so he would not be followed. So she would not chase him down again and risk everything he had slowly began building.


	4. Middle of Lover's Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crash landings, abandoned prefabs and, what's that Garrus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey!
> 
> So I asked some friends for a prompt, and they kindly gave me the following:
> 
> Middle of abandoned nowhere!  
> Loverlies!
> 
> Here it is for you, Legsy, posted up to share with the world! c; You and your hot legs...

The Kodiak? Blown thruster, irreparable without the proper tools. Tools which they certainly did not have lying in their kits or even inside the shuttle.

Raquel Shepard, helmet resting against her left hip with wrist keeping it in place, hip cocked out and lips twisted to the side in a clearly unimpressed manner, sighed and ran her gloved right hand through the maroon strands. “What did I do to deserve this?” She muttered, hoping it was low enough that her companion wouldn't hear. She stiffened when she heard said companion and partner clear his throat, a breathy laugh gusting between them as he joined her in her inspection of the downed and cooling shuttle.

“What did you do? What did I do to get strapped in with a N7 Infiltrator who can't even drive a shuttle without blowing one of its gaskets?” He joked dryly, hopping part way on one foot when she shoved his side harshly. “Alright, alright! I was just joking, Shepard. Come on, there should be something in that town, a transponder or beacon hopefully.”

She grumbled under her breath as she half stomped away, helmet back over her head, from the wreckage that their shuttle had caused, the dirt and foliage shorn up in a long gash across the planet's surface from their landing. At least there weren't any trees to get stuck in this time around.

But after an hour of searching the small, abandoned town, a former mining occupation from what the two could gather, they came up empty. “Well, Joker said he'd swing back around in..” She checked her chronometer. “In about fourteen hours. Great.” She huffed, shoulders slumping from where she sat atop a low wall, knees bent and soon supporting her elbows.

“Oh come on, it isn't that bad. At least there's no Varren out here.” Garrus spoke up, soon freezing and quickly looking back at Shepard when he heard her inhale sharply, her body tense enough to snap like an unoiled bowstring. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” He told her softly, the Turian crouching down, mandibles trembling in concern as he loosely gripped one arm in his talons. “It's alright though, no Varren here.” He reassured her patiently, a smile flicking across his face.

“Yeah, I know.” She told him, looking up and smiling, shaking away the encounter just weeks earlier. “It's okay, can't let it bother me. Don't worry about it, Garrus.” He eyed her critically for a moment before nodding and rising, pulling her to her feet with him.

“Well, we might as well get settled in. Prime property here, have to grab it before it gets picked up.” He told her, and she chuckled as she followed. With her Mattock and Widow at her back, she huffed as she shouldered the assault rifle into her hands, moving to one prefab unit while Garrus moved with his own Mattock into another. But still nothing, and Shepard kicked at a toppled chair before humming frustratedly.

“Garrus, there's nothing here. Let's just call it quits, this was the last prefab to check anyway. Can't do anything but wait.” She relented bitterly, wishing she had remembered to supply the shuttle with another beacon before taking it out again; stupid mistakes like that were what got people killed.

“Yep, join you in a minute, Shepard.” He responded through their radios. She narrowed her eyes as she looked toward the open door and shattered window, one eyebrow raising suspiciously before she rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Can't blame him for wanting to stay over there.” She muttered, her foul mood only growing darker as she rummaged through a desk in the housing unit.

Setting the chair right, she sat down and propped her feet up on the desk as she found a ball in the drawer, tossing it up into the air and catching it after setting her helmet on the desk. All in all, she looked to be a too bored soldier with nothing to do, not a good combination for anyone. “Now if I only had some gum, Joker would be proud of the vid I send to him.” She laughed aloud at the thought.

“What's so funny over there?” Garrus asked, and she smiled.

“Just thinking of some old Earth vids I used to watch. Nothing important.”

“Well then, mind sharing with the class anyway?” He asked her, and she rolled her eyes. But she explained anyway, Garrua chuckling himself before their comms grew quiet again.

“You know, Shepard…” He started, and she hummed, eyes closed, chair tilted back on two legs precariously, clearly not paying attention. “It's been four months since I joined you on the Normandy. Saren is out gathering some intel, Nihlus is back on the Citadel making nice with the Council and here we are, stranded on some backwater planet because your piloting skills are rudimentary at best.”

She grimaced, setting the chair back down and dropping her feet as well. “Your point being, Garrus? Or is insulting me the most fun you can get out here?” She grumbled angrily, him chuffing out a laugh only furthering her anger and frustration.

“Come outside.” He told her, the order firm and clear in his voice. She wished not for the first time she could hear his damned sub vocals.

Rising and striding out with sharp footfalls, boots clacking against the prefabs flooring in an angry stomping. When she exited through the open door, however, she stopped abruptly with one foot hanging in the air, toe pointed downward and ready to touch the floor. “What..?” She asked, confused and lost for further words at the sight before her.

Garrus was standing at the bottom of the ramp up to her, a warm smile in his eyes and on his plated face. In one hand was a glass box, inside a flower she hasn't seen in years. The other was resting on top of a decent sized crate, one that he had likely easily carried out from wherever he had hidden it. “You didn't crash the Kodiak. Well, you did but it wasn't because the thrusters just up and died on you.” He told her with a shrug, her foot falling to the floor as she stared, wide eyed and still confused.

“You don't remember?” He asked after a moment, face falling and concern replacing the warmth. She shook her head and smiled widely, eyes watering.

“I do, I just.. I didn't expect anyone to do anything. I haven't done anything since Liam died.” She told him honestly, moving down the ramp to join him, steps far more reserved than before, her anger completely gone.

“Joker told me you don't like to make a big deal of it, so we came up with this idea. Cortez helped with the Kodiak, but he said you'd probably manage to crash it somehow anyway.” He chuckled when she slapped at his shoulder playfully, shaking her head. “Anyway. Happy birthday, Shepard.” He told her, holding out the glass encased flower.

“I didn't think anyone knew my favorite flower. How'd you find out? I've never told anyone other than Ashley.”

“I'm known to be a very intuitive Turian, Shepard. And I may have asked around about a few things. Chakwas actually suggested the flower, though it took some digging before I found anyone who grew them.”

She smiled as she took the glass box in her hand, thumb tracing one side softly as she looked at the bright daffodil, feeling a warmth growing in her chest. “Thank you, Garrus.” She told him, voice cracking a little as she looked up at him. “Really, thank you.” He dipped his head in a small nod, mandibles fluttering contentedly at her reaction.

“I also picked this up for you. Figured you might like something a bit more practical, too.” He told her, taking a knee and pulling the top off. Inside rested a set of armor, N7 stripes of red and white freshly painted and the ceramic plates coated in a black steel finish, just like the set she had been contemplating ordering weeks before. “It's the right color, I hope.”

Unsure of her voice, she nodded her head gratefully before setting the flower on the edge of the crate and stepping over to Garrus, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a long kiss against his mouth plates. His mandibles tickled her cheeks when they fluttered, but she smiled through the kiss at his sudden bashfulness. Pulling back and letting him stand, her hands held in his, she leaned against the side of his chest.

“I'm sorry I've been a shitty partner today.” She told him, hearing him hum softly in response.

“You don't need to apologize, Shepard. I wouldn't hold it against you on any other day, certainly can't today. So, any plans for the rest of the day until Joker flies in to our rescue?” He asked, and she smiled broadly.

“I can think of a few things, but later. I just want to stay here for a little while.”

He chuckled softly, nodding as he rested his chin atop her head, arms wrapping around her, holding her tight for a moment. “Anything you want, Shepard. All you have to do is ask.”


	5. Culture Clash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their cultures clash...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was given the above prompt by a friend, as my muse has been running fairly dry lately. This certainly let it flow freely again. c;
> 
> You know who you are, hot stuff! You're seriously a life saver, I mean it.
> 
> Anyway. It's literally the shortest work I have ever done. Ever. Really. Lol It is also set fairly close after Shepard and Garrus initially begin their romantic relationship. Culture differences really do play so many parts in any type of relationship, yet I rarely see ones that travel into sleeping arrangements? And not the difference in species, mind you.

He hadn't realized how different things would be, not really, and nor had he thought about it. Sure, figuring out how to work together between the sheets had been easy enough, but this?

No, Garrus had no clue what to do with _this._

Shepard was asleep, dead to the world even when he nudged her gently and, when she didn't stir, more firmly against her arm. Eyes narrowing, their shock blue tired and just slightly irritated, Garrus flicked his mandibles before falling back against his pillow heavily, grumbling under his breath. Closing his eyes, having moved a little ways away, they snapped open when Shepard groaned in her sleep uncomfortably and rolled over, hand falling against his neck and cowl, body pressing against his again.

He was well aware humans were among the species that enjoyed cuddling, just as she was well aware that Turians were not, yet here she was pressing herself against him and breaking nearly every unspoken rule within Turian relationships; touching was fine when both parties wished for intimacy, then once the moment had passed they stuck firmly to themselves as usual. Casual was not a word in the Turian culture when it came to full fledged romances, to choosing a mate; once a mate had been chosen, touching was far more accepted.

But this? Having his fair share of lovers over the past few years, he had never once had to deal with one of those women invading his space in the middle of the night. But, he thought, they _had_ all been Turian women of course…

Uncomfortable wasn't exactly the word he could pin to the situation; he highly enjoyed the feel of her soft, pliant skin against his thick and sturdier plates and hide. But somehow, despite always saying she was cold while on the Menolith or in the field, she was throwing enough heat that even _he_ was feeling warmer. Hell, he had already tossed the sheets from off him earlier!

Grumbling as he failed to catch some much needed sleep, and not for the first night, Garrus glared at Shepard’s sleeping face before sighing. She needed it more than he did, culture mishaps be damned. And he really didn't mind, not all that much...

“What am I going to do with you?” He muttered, mandibles fluttering in a smile as she whispered something in her sleep, his translator unable to relay what it had been. Deciding to simply accept the fact that she was a subconscious cuddler, despite her denials of the fact when he would bring it up, Garrus wrapped an arm around her waist as he turned onto his side, letting the woman press against his front carefully, more comfortably for both of them. “At least I never need to visit Palaven again.” He spoke softly, humming as he closed his eyes and tried for sleep again.


	6. Misgivings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you going to kill me, Shepard?” The doctor asked after the silence began to stretch, the women watching each other.
> 
> “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's something from Shepard's N7 Infiltration days, before she went on to join Anderson as his XO and, eventually, becoming a Spectre. I've got a few more of pieces from these days that I'll be posting up, to make up for not posting the main story line... I've hit a minor impasse currently, and my chapter buffer went down the drain with what I'm wanting to alter. So sorry guys!
> 
> Read and enjoy! :D Hope this at least draws up some questions.
> 
> Oh! Before I forget; the great inspiration for this was Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier.

Draped along the couch, half empty bottle of a alcohol she had found in the mess hall of the building, Shepard drummed her fingers lazily against the chest plate of her armor, humming tunelessly, eyes unfocused and dull. She took a long drink before the bottle was again held loosely off the side of the couch.

A door swished open softly as an Asari stepped through, and Shepard sat up without trouble, considering the obvious inebriation. “Shepard! What are you doing here?” The woman who walked in was surprised, and she nearly dropped the datapads in her arms. “You shouldn't be here.” Her initial surprise over with, the woman gave her a stern glare, but her voice shook with obvious fear.

“I shouldn't be here? Why not, Laila? You did so much _for me_ why wouldn't I want to come and thank you?” Shepard asked, standing and dropping the bottle, ignoring the clank of the glass and the slosh as it spilled out onto the floor. “Or are you really so surprised because I actually _found_ you? I know all about you and Cerberus, Laila.”

“Who else knows?” Laila asked quickly, taking a step back toward the still open door, hands wrapping tighter around the datapads against her chest. She lifted her chin defiantly despite her want to flee, staring Shepard down with harsh violet eyes.

“No one alive, except Draylon, wherever that bastard is.” Shepard said in response, crossing her arms across her chest, face blank and eyes darker. “I'm sure you can understand my stance on things, Laila. Can't be that hard to grasp.”

“No, I don't understand! We helped you! Reinforced your muscles and bones, gave your skills as an infiltrator a boost you needed!”

Rage flooded through the room, Shepard’s voice rising as she dropped her arms and clenched her fists. “My skills didn't need a fucking boost, Laila! I was still one of the best operatives in the N program before you and your boss fucked me up!”

“We did no such thing! We gave you the power to go further than your mentors, to get the job done and continue onto the next without needing to be knocked out of the game for weeks at a time. You even received biotics, for the Goddess' sake!”

“ _I didn't want any of this!_ ” Shepard shouted, biotics now curling up and around her viciously, Laila closing her mouth with a click of teeth, eyes wide as understanding fell into place for the woman.

“No, everyone Cerberus sent to my team and I were volunteers. We had written consents, medical histories, my team spoke with every candidate personally!”

“But not you, right? You were making sure everything else was in order while your team talked to everyone?” Shepard asked, gritting her teeth and glaring angrily at the doctor. “I wasn't the only one who didn't volunteer Laila, but I am the last project Cerberus made with you in charge. Why do you think that is?”

Laila stared hard at Shepard, eyes searching for answers that the soldier wasn't giving up. “I was the last one because _someone_ leaked information of my whereabouts. An old friend had been looking for me, and he just so happened to stumble across files about me, and schematics to replace a few things I guess you thought would get me killed. I will say this though; you did damn fine work. How much did Cerberus pay you?”

“Four million.” Laila told her quietly, argumentative streak gone. “But I put it all into you. You were the best we had, I didn't want to risk you dying because of some faulty equipment or because what we did somehow failed. The nanites we implanted won't fail, because of what Cerberus gave me.”

“Cerberus didn't _give_ you anything, Laila. You were nothing more than a middle man, because they wanted me. They expected you to implant that chip, didn't they? But you didn't.”

“No, I didn't. I couldn't do that, to any of the people I worked on.”

“There were a few other doctors who didn't share your morals, Laila.” Shepard told her, voice calm again.

“Are you going to kill me, Shepard?” The doctor asked after the silence began to stretch, the women watching each other.

“Yes.” Shepard responded quietly, face an even mask of indifference once more. She saw the resignation settle into Laila’s face, the Asari nodding her head before gesturing to the table behind Shepard.

“Can I at least count on you to deliver something for me?” At Shepard’s nod, she continued. “I want this to go to Liara T’Soni. You know her already. Just… Just tell her thank you.”

“I'll make sure it gets to her, Laila.” Shepard said, stiffening at the mention of their, apparently, mutual friend. “It'll be quick and clean, I promise.”

Laila nodded, shakily moving forward and setting the datapad she wanted delivered aside from the rest in her arms. Sitting on the couch, she took a few deep breathes as Shepard pulled her pistol from her hip, resting a hand on Laila’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “For what it's worth, I don't hate _you_ Laila.”

“Just everything I did and what I had to compromise to do it. I understand, Shepard.”

Shepard pulled the trigger after placing the barrel underneath her crest, purple blood spraying the room before Shepard eased the doctor's body back against the couch reverently. “It says a lot that Cerberus hired outside of humanity, though. You were one of the few aliens they managed to sink their teeth into.” Shepard whispered as she grabbed the datapad and left the room behind, stepping through the spilled alcohol on the floor as she went.


	7. Carrying On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time of change, and a good man to make her rethink how best to keep going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short thing I conjured up when thinking about things prior to Shepard becoming a Spectre.
> 
> As for the main story, I think I'm going to try and flesh the old Shepard out a bit more before I move in with that one. So sorry for all of you readers who are waiting for another chapter up over there. It'll come, please know that it will! Some things have got to change with my Shepard though, and the story itself, for things to really make sense and work out. c:
> 
> As always, thank you for your views, for comments and kudos! I appreciate every one of them. Comments, constructive crit or questions are always welcome! Enjoy.

Staring out the window, arms loosely held in her palms by her elbows, Raquel Shepard blinked slowly as she thought over the words rolling around her head like a clock ticking continuously in its cycle, never ending but steady in its duty.

“Why me?” She finally asked, not turning from the window overlooking the abyss of space in the office. She didn't bat an eye when a man joined her, arms held loosely behind his back, fingers encircling one wrist against the dress blues of his overcoat. “You know what I did, and you want me to jump back into the frying pan? Rejoin the ranks and listen to every rule and stipulation I was ordered to ignore for six years of my life?” Her tone was colder now, sharp and jagged,  _ angry. _

“Yes, I do. But as my XO, Shepard. Not someone else who doesn't know you, who can't understand or won't at least try.” David Anderson spoke calmly, not bothered by her menace in the slightest. “You were written off and pushed under the rug because of Cerberus, and for that I'm sorry. I should have been there, Shepard.”

She scoffed, but it was easy to tell it wasn't directed at the man beside her. “Don't apologize, Anderson. I knew what I was getting into when I became an Infiltrator, I just didn't know that it… That I..”

Shepard couldn't finish her sentence, fingers gripping her elbows tightly as she closed her eyes. Turning away from the window, she limped to the chair and desk that sat in the corner, hands clutching at the back of the chair instead as she bowed her head, looking defeated and entirely lost. “I just didn't know that it would cost me everything I picked back up again.” She whispered, shoulders shaking. “I killed people and they give me the Star of Terra, Anderson. I _murdered_ _civilians_ but because I wasn't officially discharged I still get thrown around like I did the right thing! What did they tell their families? That I saved them like I saved Zane?”

“Zane Fredericks was a trained operative, and after what Draylon did to him death was the kindest mercy he could have been given, Shepard.” Anderson said firmly, voice rising a bit as he took his seat behind his desk, eyeing her carefully. “What happened on Trident was not your fault, what happened to Fredericks was not your fault and you could not save him. What happened on Elysium was not your fault, and despite what you chose to do in the wake of a slave raid, you deserve the recognition for saving countless others Shepard. Urdnot Wrex even offered his own commendations, even if they were more than a little brusque. Considering you've know him for less than two months that's high praise from a Krogan, you and I both know that.”

Shepard said nothing, but she did look up and meet his eyes, her own indigo a dull blaze, red rimmed and bloodshot from exhaustion and unshed tears. “I killed twenty three people who should still be here, Anderson. I killed the one person who meant everything to me now. Nothing will change that.”

“Letting go can, Raquel. Be my XO, join me and my crew and show the man you loved that you can live for both of you. I don't care if this might mean my head down the road, I don't care if it means taking a desk job in ten years. You, of all people, deserve a chance to find yourself again.” He laced his fingers behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, watching as she thought about what he had said, looking for the acceptance he knew she would give.

And when she did, a watery smile on her face, she closed her eyes before taking a seat. “What do you need me to do, Anderson?”

As he leaned over his desk again and went over the duties he would expect her to undertake, of how she would fit into the crew and what stipulations he wanted her to agree upon, he couldn't help but smile as he watched the young woman take it all in stride, listened and answered her concerns or questions patiently. After nearly two hours, as she stood to leave, he smiled kindly at her.

“Welcome aboard, Shepard. I'm glad to see you coming back to the woman I met when you entered the N program.” He said sincerely, Shepard eyeing him warily before nodding slowly and limping out the door.

Alone, leaning back in his chair and smiling fondly to himself, Anderson shook his head. “It's a start.”


	8. Laid Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sickness, it happens.

Stepping through the door to the crew's quarters, head turning as he scanned for sign of his partner, Garrus trilled in confusion when he saw a lump of familiar blanket on the floor, tightly wound up and twisted around what could only be Shepard. It moved slightly, as though breathing, and he approached, confusion etched into his facial plates.

“Shepard, you alright?” He asked, squatting down and lifting up a portion, finding her shoulder and the back of her neck, what hair he could see looking unkempt, stuck to what skin it could. He blinked, growing worried when she groaned. Loudly. Pulling the blanket off entirely, letting it pool on the floor nearby, his visor scanned her quickly and gave troubling readings; elevated temperature high enough to make even him feel hot, heart rate slightly above her normal, body shivering as her hands rubbed too slowly over her bared arms, sweat pouring off her to soak into the top she wore (which was unusual in itself, considering she preferred mid sleeved to tank tops.) and then she seemed to have not heard him even from right behind her.

“Hey, can you hear me, Shepard?” He asked again, louder, and she groaned again as she clenched her eyes shut tightly, frowning for only a moment before she coughed, sounding like her lungs were about to burst free from her throat. Rubbing her back, he waited patiently for her breathing to settle before she turned to look at him over her shoulder.

“When did you get back?” She asked him, sounding hoarse and just a tad bit nasally. She swallowed thickly before pressing her head back against the floor, curling into herself as she shivered, teeth beginning to chatter.

“Just a few minutes ago. I'm not very experienced with sick humans, how bad is it?” He admitted, moving her hair from off her shoulder, feeling her heat leaching out from her bare skin like a miniature sun.

“I've got the flu, or something. I don't know.. Feel like Vorcha guts after sniping them close range.” She told him, beginning to cough again before reaching a hand out, looking for her blanket he guessed by the way she patted around. He was quick to wrap it back around her, careful to avoid it snagging on his talons, before heaving her up and back into her bunk.

“What do you need, Shepard?” He asked, mandibles flaring in a small smile when she opened her eyes again, looking completely and utterly miserable, like he had never seen Shepard before.

“A bullet.” She deadpanned, shifting uncomfortably before shaking again. The blanket clearly wasn't helping, despite how much she was sweating, and he shook his head before removing his armor. Once he had set it beside the bed, out of the way, he easily pushed her sideways before taking up the small amount of space he had made. She hummed and burrowed closer to him once he had settled, coughing into her blanket while he chuckled gently. “S’not funny, Garrus.” She mumbled bitterly, glaring half heartedly up at him.

“It's a little funny, Shepard. You just said a few weeks ago you wouldn't get sick after that mission on Omega, and here we are. Laid up in your bunk, your favorite Turian keeping you warm.”

“You're not my favorite anymore.” She told him, sniffling dryly before sighing and relaxing just a bit more into him. “I'm tired…”

“Then get some sleep.” He chuckled again, but she groaned.

“Can't. Have stuff to do.”

“What stuff would that be?”

“Reports to file. Vid call with Udina in… What time is it?”

“1437.”

“Vid call with Udina to reschedule.” she grumbled. “And then I was gonna follow up with Sparatus after that shit on Kar’Shan, plus I had some shipments I was supposed to look through and make sure they got to the right people. And Nihlus called earlier, but I had to duck out before he could really talk.”

“Nihlus won't mind, he’ll understand when you're able to call him back. Sparatus has been on leave this past week, he just returned this morning; I was speaking with him just before I came back here. Udina will probably be as arrogant and pissed as he always is, but he'll get over it. Those shipments and reports can wait, too. We're not leaving until tomorrow morning, and we've been asked to head into the Terminus Systems to check out some leads with that kidnapper from Noveria. You've got time to get some sleep and feel better.” He assured her, humming when she sounded like she was about to whine. Whine, of all things.

“I can't.. This needs to get done, it's important.” She told him, and he chuckled again but wrapped an arm under and around her tightly, shaking his head.

“Not as important as you feeling better. I'd rather have someone who can stand up without shaking watching my back. Sleep, Shepard. I'll head off anything that needs your attention after we leave.”

"You can't do that from my bunk, Garrus.” She told him plainly. When he shrugged she growled, soon devolving into that hacking cough that left his mandibles fluttering worriedly.

“I said after we leave, not right this minute. Besides, do you really want your personal heating unit to leave?” He joked, and she wriggled against him, muttering that no, she did not want him to leave when he was keeping her warm. “Thought not. Now I don't know about you, but it's been a long day for me and I'm for some shut eye. You look like you desperately need that. And a shower, but if I didn't think you'd fall asleep in there and drown, I’d have shoved you into a stall the second I walked in.”

“Shut up, heater. You're an inanimate object, and those don't make fun of sick people.” He rumbled with amusement, but it turned to a soft, comforting hum that lulled Shepard into a doze. She coughed again, harshly enough that it shook the bunk they were in, Garrus cracking an eye when she hunched further against him but remained otherwise undisturbed.

“We’ll stop by Omega and grab Mordin before we head further into enemy territory. Maybe he'll have something to help you feel better.” He whispered to her, getting a light snore that made him huff a short laugh. Settling in against the bunk, uncomfortably tight with the two of them in it, he smiled after reaching over and pulling a medi-gel ampule from his armor, administering it to Shepard and hearing her breathing less scratchy, feeling her slump heavily against him and the bunk as she relaxed fully.

"Remind me to thank Nihlus for the heads up tomorrow.” He muttered, yawning before dozing off himself.


	9. Time Left Standing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some R&R for the two lovebirds, on Earth.

Gripping the single crutch loosely as she leaned against the low wall of the balcony, Shepard breathed deeply and smiled, eyes closed to the light of dawn just reaching upward to paint the sky shades of grey, pink and yellow. Having been born on Earth, she hadn't realized how much she had missed moments like this, the quiet ones where she could simply be.

She opened her eyes when she heard a shuffling in the room behind her, just the rustling of sheets before a soft, whistling snore broke the near silence. Wearing nothing more than a tank top and shorts, she shivered when a chilled breeze swept over her, the flush on her skin making her smile again, giddy almost in the moment.

She turned around when a soft, sleepy voice called her name, her smile softening as her eyes warmed. “Shepard. What are you doing up so early?” Garrus asked, soon yawning before springing out of bed in a way she envied, never quite knowing how he was able to just roll right out of bed and walk around like he never needed to sleep. He joined her in a few strides, ducking slightly to get under the sliding doors frame, before circling his arms around her waist.

Leaning back against him, feeling his heartbeat in an odd rhythm compared to her own, his warmth seeping into her skin, his breathing deep and even and comforting, Shepard smiled again. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, resting his chin atop her head fully, voice sounding lazy with sleep.

“Yeah, Garrus, I'm okay. I missed this though, didn't realize how much I missed a sunrise. The air out here. How open it is even if we’re in a big town like this.” He hummed in response, his mandibles flicking against her head and making her lips twist downward; he knew she hated when he did that, getting her hair caught in his mandibles was always a hassle for them both.

“It is nice, beautiful. It's very similar to ones on Palaven, really, we just have different colors to watch.” He told her, hugging her tightly for a moment before reaching forward and grabbing her crutch, tossing it behind them inside their room before turning her around carefully. Holding her against him, he backed into the room too, chuckling when she offered up resistance to being carried and pulled back inside. Without her crutch, however, she could do little about it with her still healing knee and tibia.

“We’re on medical leave, Shepard. That means we don't have to be awake before the day cycle begins, and we have no where we need to be until your doctor sends your paperwork to the Council. This bed is awfully cold without you.” He said as he hit the edge and sat down, holding her up and steady at the hips when she wobbled, one arm reaching out to hold herself up against his shoulder.

Her brow pressed down as she tried to regain her balance on her own but struggled, eyes watching her leg as the muscles twitched and trembled weakly, disappointment and shame spreading across her face. When she looked back up at Garrus, his bright eyes told her all she would ever need; it was okay, he had her. He wouldn't let her fall. Her worry dissipated as she nodded, letting him help her ease down beside him.

"How long do you think we'll have here?” She asked suddenly, the two having gotten back into bed fully after Garrus had closed the door. Shepard had asked him to leave the window untinted, saying she wanted to watch the sunrise still.

“For another month at least, Shepard. Not eager to get back out there, are you?” He joked, and she shook her head, grinning even as her eyes began to feel heavy.

“No. I don't want to leave.” She told him honestly, her mood becoming melancholic, the sleep that called fading into the background enough that she felt a seed of restlessness settle into her limbs. “I don't want to leave, Garrus.”

His humming stopped as his arms tightened where they were around her, growing somber himself. “Then we stay here, for as long as it takes.”

“It's not just here.” She spoke softly, closing her eyes as she smiled, her chin trembling at the thought of how he loved her so, enough to stay in a place he wasn't made for. “Anywhere with you, Garrus. You, and peace and quiet.”

He hummed quietly again, his chest vibrating through her calmly as she settled back against him, smiling faintly when she felt his talons trailing carefully along her arm. “I'm with you, Shepard.” He whispered as she felt herself falling deeper into the relaxing purr that was completely him.


	10. Pineapple Party Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from my good buddy, Vak; Pineapple Dress Party Chaos. Such great tastes you have, Vak.

She had stated, multiple times, how much she hated it. How much she abhorred dressing up all fancy and nice and just being unable to move. Dresses were freeing, sure, as long as they had high slit thighs, weren't restricting in the shoulders, chest or hips, and didn't tangle with one's feet; and of course said feet would not be in military issue boots and laces. The chest and shoulder restriction were easy enough to work around, the dress low cut in the front but far from immodest or too revealing for Shepard’s tastes; her back was still covered, thank god, but her hips and abdomen were still constricted a little too much if something happened. And she was not about to stride around with slits up the side of the dress nearly up to her ass, oh hell no. Her shoes, too, those monsters were not ever going to be worn again. And that wasn't even close to how naked she felt with only a small, not-what-she-liked pistol strapped at her left thigh, almost under her ass entirely; she was uncomfortable on so many levels she wasn't sure it could get worse.

Saren growled under his breath as he escorted the fancily clad Spectre, her forest green dress making the woman grumble under her breath as she tried her hardest to balance on her toes in the heels, hand locked on Saren’s arm to avoid falling flat on her face. “When you agreed to assist in penetrating the mercenary ring, you assured me you would be able to work within the confines of the luxury granted to their status, Shepard.” Saren hissed when he pulled her aside, out of view from the guests waiting to be admitted into the home of one Donovan Hock.

“You didn't tell me we'd be crashing a damned party, Saren. And that Garrus would be acting like some high end merc instead of the one getting us through the door.” Shepard hissed right back, taking a breath before running a hand through her waved maroon hair, nervous and upset and completely out of her element. “Saren, I kill people by infiltrating quietly and under my cloak, I've.. never done this before. I've never been sent to act like a high class whore, I avoided those assignments.” She admitted, eyes downcast beneath the makeup she felt was caked onto her skin.

“You are fine, Shepard. Calm down, get in and we can get you out of those ridiculous shoes before anyone realizes we've stolen the information we need.” Saren assured her, voice stiff as he released an exasperated sigh. “Just be glad Nihlus was unavailable to accompany you.”

Shepard looked up at Saren, horrified at that knowledge. The red plated Turian would have laughed her to Omega and back ten times over if he had been the one trying to get in the front door with her. Well, likely after the mission was fulfilled but still. “Let's go.” Saren spoke after another moment, pulling her with him.

And before Shepard knew it they were in the extravagant house of the man they intended to pilfer information from. From the mercenary tied man who had everything in the world that Shepard had always known would be out of her reach; she found she truly didn't care that she would never have a lifestyle as the people around her did. Except..

“He has fucking pineapple?” She said in a hushed, distressed whisper, making Saren glance at her before looking to see what she was staring at. “Do you know how hard it is to find pineapple, Saren? Real pineapple?” She hissed to him when he rolled his eyes and grumbled. Shepard elbowed him none to gently in the hip, just above his spurs, and smirked to herself when he growled painfully at her.

Before she could make it to the table to grab herself a pineapple (intending to hide the entire damned bunch of the fruit under the table.) she saw Garrus across the room, pulling his gun as he stared at her. Shepard was on the ground and snarling about her clothing choices as she pulled her irritatingly small pistol from its holster, hearing gunfire erupt as screams reverberated around her, targeting a guard and shooting, turn to another as Saren flipped the table for some cover, his larger and heftier Paladin in his talons. Shepard jealously watched as he shot while she ducked to reload a heat sink, glaring when he smugly looked her and her own weapon over.

Peeking up and aiming for another guard, Shepard cried out in disappointment when bullets were sent in a full assault, the guards having grouped behind their own cover, shooting right through the table full of her cherished and missed fruit. “Aw come on! Not the pineapple!” She shouted, ignoring Saren and Garrus when he slipped to her other side, chuckling amusedly at her.

It was another fifteen minutes before they managed to break through the guards, hack their way into Hock’s vault, and finally pick up the load of information he was keeping in the luxurious basement. Exiting through the warehouse and his personal dock was another matter, but as soon as they managed to hop into a skycar and escape, Shepard settled back against her seat with arms crossed, mood foul.

“I ruined this damn dress, my feet feel like I've been walking on glass all day, and I didn't even get to eat any of that pineapple. Thanks for a great outing, Saren, really know how to show a girl a good time.”

“You shot people, Shepard, that is a good time for military personnel like yourself.” Saren drawled, eyes focused ahead as he piloted the car manually.

But behind them, Garrus seated in the back, Shepard heard him hum contentedly, grating on her nerves; why in the hell was he so smug? She asked just that question, turning to glare at him only to look on with awe and surprise at what he pulled from the floor.

“Figured you might need at least one thing to look forward too after we get back to the Normandy.” A whole, nearly unscathed spiky pineapple was held in his talons, the sharp leaves a little worse for wear but otherwise in perfect condition. Shepard squealed happily as she grabbed the fruit and wriggled in her seat.

“So this is the woman I’m in love with? Nice to see every side of you, Shepard.” Garrus laughed when she mock glared at him, smile still in place. He just gave her something from her childhood, she couldn't really be mad. “Though that dress certainly did look good on you. Really made your hips flare.” He leaned forward and nuzzled into her ear, whispering softly before his tongue trailed over the shell of her ear and sent a shiver through her.

“If either one of you acts upon those urges now, I'll open the doors and throw you out myself.” Saren all but snarled at them, eyes narrowed as he glared at the two lovers, mandibles pulled in tight and giving him a somewhat disgusted look. Shepard snorted as she turned to look out the window, face flaring red with embarrassment, though Garrus didn't seem perturbed.

“You know Saren, jealousy actually does fit you. I'm sure Shepard might be convinced to let you join, if you get her one of these things, maybe.” Shepard blanched as she stared out the window, Saren falling quiet himself before he turned to stare far too intently at where he was flying. Garrus just chuckled before collapsing back into his seat.

“Wasn't that dress a rental, Shepard?” Garrus asked after a few moments, leaning forward and taking in the scorch marks on one hip, the bullet graze across her side, one arm and near the ankle, the frayed edge and the torn back.

“Dammit, Garrus!” Shepard snarled as she flung the pineapple back at him next, frustrated as she remembered just how much the dress was going to cost her now. “This is why I don't go anywhere nice!”


End file.
